


Tend

by dormiensa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Holmes Brothers, Humor, a quiet moment, series compliant though unspecified timeline—post Scandal definitely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is now safe from his kidnappers, having been rescued by Sherlock.  This is some quiet family time in-hospital.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Loosely based on bbcsherlockheadcanon #2927: Sherlock once single-handedly rescued Mycroft from kidnappers.  The experience was a horrible one both would rather forget.  Mycroft became even more averse to "legwork"; Sherlock never forgave his brother for putting him in a situation where his logic was compromised by his emotions.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tammany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tammany/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Забота](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600324) by [faikit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikit/pseuds/faikit)



The first thing Mycroft noticed when he awoke was the muddled haze his thoughts were sloughing through.  Not good. 

 

He did inventory on his injuries.  None.  _Definitely_ not good.

 

“It’s about time you woke up, you lazy sod,” said a familiar voice to his right, breaking his line of inquiry.  “Ow!”

 

“You behave, Willy!  Your brother’s been through quite an ordeal.”

 

“But I was the one who discovered his location.  _I_ was the one who made sure he was still conscious and—”

 

“Of course you did, My Wilfull Darling, but that _is_ your job.  What’s the use of being an agent and a consulting detective—”

 

“I’m the only one!”

 

“Yes, you are, and we’re very proud of you.”  Mummy patted Sherlock’s cheek.  Sherlock huffed and turned his focus back to his brother.  His eyes betrayed him, though, as they scanned Mycroft from head to toe. 

 

“Thank you, brother mine.” Mycroft’s smile quirked when Sherlock glowered at him for preempting his deductions on his brother’s well-being. 

 

“How are you feeling, Mi—croft?”  Mummy smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead.

 

“In no pain, which makes me worried they’ve been too enthusiastic over the morphine dosage.  No, Mummy,”—Mycroft stopped his mother’s protest—“I can’t assess the state of my injuries if I can’t feel them.  And morphine always dulls my thoughts.  I detest that.”

 

“You’re dull even without it.”

 

“William Sherlock—”

 

“Now, now, dear, the doctors said Mycroft can’t be under any stress while he recovers.  Besides, you know how the two of them trading insults is the best way to get him back to normal.”  Mummy glared at Father but didn’t make further remarks, instead choosing to pat Mycroft’s unencumbered hand. 

 

“Don’t fret, Mummy.  I’ll be fine.  They only had me for less than twenty-four hours…”—Sherlock nodded confirmation—“So, my injuries are superficial, if a bit more than skin-deep.  If I’d been in their custody for two more days, however…”

 

“As if England could allow _The British Government_ to be gone for so long.  Do you know that Lady Smallwood _kissed_ me when I homed in your location?  And the Queen told me that, after the twelve-hour mark, she considered having me temporarily fill your shoes.”

 

“So, you’ve finally got the knighthood you didn’t want.”

 

Sherlock sniffed.  “Hardly.  She didn’t even offer.  Instead, she presented me with the sword she uses during the ceremony.”

 

Mycroft laughed and was pleased to note the soreness in his ribs.  Well, he wouldn’t have the medical team dismissed after all.  “You do realize that you are now a supernumerary member of the Garter, and it’s quite possible that you _will_ have to fill my shoes should this situation ever arise again.  It’s much more than a knighthood, dear brother.”

 

Sherlock was speechless.  Mummy squealed in delight and Sherlock suffered a few minutes of her effusion before extricating himself and bolting out the door.

 

Father chuckled.  “Sherlock has rather taken over the role of household imp and brought it to new heights, but I’m glad you haven’t completely outgrown the impulse, son.  Now come, dear, we’d better let the boy have some rest.  We’ll come by tomorrow, son.”

 

Mycroft closed his eyes and allowed the morphine to draw him into light repose.  When he next opened his eyes, he saw Sherlock smirking as he rapidly texted—with Andrea, he supposed.  Mycroft smiled when they made brief eye contact and dutifully drained the glass of water that was proffered.

**Author's Note:**

> Playing with some Tammany headcanon. And my own, of course (yes, guilty: #2927 is mine).
> 
> The bit about the sword is completely my own invention.
> 
> Thanks to [freska](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faikit/pseuds/faikit), there's now a Russian translation ([Забота](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3600324)) of my story!


End file.
